


family

by orlesiantitans



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 5 + 1, 5 + 1 Christmases, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Family, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Kid Fic, Rivals to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21956275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orlesiantitans/pseuds/orlesiantitans
Summary: The first Christmas Rey spends with Poe Dameron, they argue with each other near-constantly. Finn thought it would be a nice idea to have all his friends at his house, and it’s very clear around four minutes into this plan, he’s regretting it.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Rey
Comments: 8
Kudos: 110





	family

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!

_**i.** _

The first Christmas Rey spends with Poe Dameron, they argue with each other near-constantly. Finn thought it would be a nice idea to have all his friends at his house, and it’s very clear around four minutes into this plan, he’s regretting it. 

“You can’t cook it like that! You’ll kill someone holding the pan that way!” Rey gripes, trying to grab it off him, which leads to him batting her hand away. 

“I know what I’m _doing_ , Johnson, I’m not a _child!_ ” he insists, and she glares at him. 

“No. You’re just a hopeless cook, doing terrible things to the art of cooking-”  
  


“Says the Brit!”

“-in a manner that will almost certainly end with a fire. Do you want to set Finn’s house on fire, Poe? His brand new, tidy house? Wait, why are you getting chillies - those are _potatoes!”_

Poe looks her dead in the eye, and drops the chillies into the frying pan. He doesn’t waver. He does it in a manner that suggests he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“I’m sorry. Does flavour offend your delicate British senses?”

Later on, she forces each bite down. It doesn’t taste bad, but she’s unwilling to admit how _hot_ it is to her. Her nose is streaming, her eyes are watery, and Poe Dameron smirks at her and proceeds to shovel a whole forkful into his mouth. 

_What an arsehole._

**_ii._ **

The next Christmas Rey spends with Poe Dameron, Finn has lovingly dubbed them ‘frenemies’, and they certainly live up to the name. On Valentine’s Day, Rey had sent Poe some dead flowers, and Poe had sent her chocolate with nuts (which she hates). Come Easter, they both received things that looked like eggs, but were actually empty lengths of tinfoil. Halloween was defined by punch that was just water with food colouring in it, and Thanksgiving had Poe smirking at Rey as he tipped an entire box of tea into the river - much to her horror. 

“Give me back my socks,” Rey demands lazily from where she’s sitting on the sofa, idly playing Wordscapes on her phone. 

Poe’s put them on his hands. “The socks are mine, now.”

He looks ridiculous. It makes her more annoyed, somehow, and she lunges at him, causing him to yelp and raise his sock-covered hands to defend himself. She manages, somehow, to get her legs around him, and the next fifteen minutes are spend with her on his back and him managing to avoid her every swipe.

Finn and Rose are stood in the doorway. “I bet they fuck this next year,” he whispers.

She sighs, “No, too stubborn for it. Not this year, but the one after.”

**_iii._ **

Their third Christmas isn’t spent together. Poe goes back home, and she finds that - oddly - she misses him. Not because she likes him, but because he’d been part of her Christmas for the last couple of years. 

Her phone pings, and his familiar profile picture pops up in the corner. 

**_10.42PM_ **

**_Merry Christmas._ **

**_10.43PM_ **

**_Not Christmas yet._ **

**_Still got a couple hours._ **

**_10.45PM_ **

**_I do what I want._ **

**_Also, it’s Christmas here._ **

**_Which means I can say Merry Christmas._ **

**_10.46PM_ **

**_The sentiment means less when you_ **

**_follow it up with ‘I do what I want.'_**

**_10.46PM_ **

**_Sure, sunshine. Have a good night._ **

She does have a good night. It’s not like when she was a kid, curled up in a tiny bed where the springs almost pushed through the mattress, hoping and praying for a very specific kind of gift. 

It was the same letter every year. _‘Please Santa, give me a family for Christmas’._

Well. It had never happened, and in retrospect it all feels a little pathetic. 

_(She’d told Poe before, about her past, and she’d gotten upset and called herself pathetic and he’d looked at her so kindly, kinder than he’d ever looked at anyone, and put his hand on her knee and shook his head. ‘No, it’s not pathetic sunshine. Your feelings are valid. Always remember that.’)_

The next morning she gets up early, walks downstairs in her fluffy socks. She’s dog-sitting for Poe, and so her presents are all under his tree, and she sits with Bee on her knee as she opens them up. It’s all lovely - books and concert tickets from Finn, a voucher for dinner from Rose, boxes of exotic teas from Ben and a bottle of prosecco from Leia and Han. 

The last present she opens is Poe. It’s small, feels solid, like a box. She tears open the paper and frowns when it’s revealed to her. Jewelry? She opens it slowly, carefully, and finds a golden pendant inside, a small ruby indented into the middle, a starburst carved around it. She opens it, and there’s a message on the inside. 

_The blood of the covenant is stronger than the water of the womb._

_For Rey. Love Poe._

To the side there’s a group picture of everyone she loves in the side. Poe had taken it at her birthday party earlier in the year. She’s in the middle, Finn and Poe’s arms around her, and there’s a semi-circle of family around her. She brushes over the words on the other side. Blood of the covenant. 

Her heart swells and once it’s around her neck, hanging low between her breasts, she brushes a finger over it. Tears are streaming down her face, and she doesn’t know when they started, but she does know that they don’t stop. 

**_9.26AM_ **

**_You made me cry._ **

**_But thank you._ **

**_9.26AM_ **

**_What?_ ** **_  
_** **_No, sunshine, don’t cry. Please._ **

**_You deserve the world. I just gave_** **_you what I could._ **

**_9.27AM_ **

**_Thank you._ **

**_9.27AM_ **

**_And thank you for the books, sunshine._ **

Books. Compared to a gold locket that made her cry. It doesn’t feel like enough, but if there’s one thing she’s discovered about Poe Dameron, it’s that he’s generous to a fault.

She hates it. And yet she loves it. 

_She loves -_

Oh, fuck. 

She loves _him_. 

**_iv._ **

They don’t admit it their fourth Christmas. Rey knows something’s shifted between them, of course, but she can’t quite name it. They argue less. They talk more, and it’s more and more personal. Rey finds out that Poe’s mother died. Poe finds out about her grandfather - a cruel and controlling man. They spend a lot of time together, and Finn always looks at Rey strangely when she says they’re just friends. 

As if he expects her to change her answer. As if he expects her to get with Poe, even though she’s never even _kissed_ anyone before, embarrassing as it is. 

She’s sat with him in the living room, grinning, and she lunges for him when he steals her phone just to bug her. She ends up falling directly on top of him, and he’s grinning until his eyes focus somewhere just above her head. 

“Oh,” he murmurs, and she follows his gaze. 

_Oh_. Mistletoe.

There’s silence between them before he swallows, throat bobbing with the movement. 

“Well. It’s tradition, right?”

The dam breaks. Rey leans down to press a single, sweet kiss to his lips. It’s a slightly awkward position, and more awkward since she doesn’t know what she’s doing, but Poe grabs her hips and kisses her back as fiercely. One hand moves to her hair, and she’s just about to make an embarrassing sound when someone clears their throat behind her. She squeaks and tries to move, only to get her leg caught in the side of the chair, and Poe let out a huff of breath.

“Guess it worked, then?” Finn asks, pointing to the mistletoe. Normally, Rey would have a retort. She doesn’t. She’s too embarrassed. 

They sit like that for a moment, and Poe makes a pained noise. “Rey, I’m sorry, but please move? You kneed me. In the balls. And your knee’s _still there_ ,” he says, voice just a little too high pitched. 

Because Poe Dameron is a pain the arse, he _never_ lets go of the fact the first time Rey touched his balls was when she kneed him. 




They’re staying with his dad. Of course, the trick to any successful Christmas is surprising the other person the next day. So Rey had wrapped his present up in a box, to avoid him figuring it out. The pregnancy test, babygro and shirt with ‘daddy to be’ written on it couldn’t really be beaten. She had other presents for him too, of course, but that’s his main one.

Poe kept insisting that his present that year ‘couldn’t be beaten’, and she just smirked and privately disagreed. How could he even come _close_ to a baby? It had happened oddly quickly for two people in a relatively new relationship, but they’d been dancing around each other for so long that the whole thing had progressed quickly. 

They’re spending Christmas with his dad, who’s simply overjoyed to meet her. It makes Rey privately pleased - their child will have a _doting_ abuelo, one who loves his son but _also_ loves Rey, insisting she call him ‘papa’ almost as soon as they meet.

On Christmas morning, she and Poe disagree, however. 

“You open yours first.”  
  


“No way, sunshine. Mine is better,” he insists. Kes rolls his eyes.

“Open them together.”

This isn’t going to plan, at all, but Rey wants to make a good impression on the grandfather of her child, and Poe just does what his dad tells him too, so they break the presents open simultaneously. Rey’s mouth drops open at the same time as Poe’s when she opens the pretty box to reveal his mother’s ring, with a small note saying ‘marry me’ next to it. Poe, on the other hand, seems frozen.

“Yes!” says Rey, and the same time Poe says, “You’re…?!” and then she’s on his lap and kissing him and he’s crying and she’s crying and it’s perfect. This continues until Kes clears his throat.

“Mijo, chica, please don’t make my grandchild a sibling before they’ve even arrived,” he begs, though his voice is thick with tears. He’s pulled into their hug, and Rey suddenly feels like perhaps those childhood wishes are being granted. 

**_+1_ **

Shara is giggling wildly, her curls sticking up on her head despite Rey’s best efforts to tame it that morning. The six-month-old gurgles happily, playing with the wrapping paper and reaching for Bee, the long suffering corgi giving a visible sigh when she starts to tug on his fur. Poe wraps his arms around Rey from behind, watching her and swaying them side to side in time to the music. Kes, who agreed to visit for the little one’s first Christmas, leans down to pick her up, and peppers kisses down on her face. She giggles at that too, so incredibly _happy_ , and Rey feels her heart _swell_. Their little girl knows love, knows family, and always will. It’s perfect. 

“We made that,” Poe murmurs, his face going to bury in her neck. 

“We made all of this,” she replies, twining their fingers together. She knows dinner’s on. Knows Poe’s probably put chillies in the fried potatoes. Again. But she’s thrilled. He spins her around, and it’s only a moment before Shara starts making the whimpers that say she wants fed. Again. She sighs when Poe puts her down, smiles when she notices him watching her let Shara latch onto her breast, how his hand goes to those curls as she suckles, and their daughter is happy. That’s all that matters, in the end. 

He brushes a kiss to her forehead, “Merry Christmas, my darling.”  
  


“Merry Christmas.”


End file.
